


those are silver these are gold

by badAquatic, orphan_account



Series: Trailerstuck [31]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alien Mythology/Religion, Alternate Universe - Human/Troll Society, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, F/M, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 02:13:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badAquatic/pseuds/badAquatic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feferi goes to church and ponders about the future and family. </p><p>Takes place after "in the jungle".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. heaven is a cold glass of water

**== >Feferi: Attend church three days into the future**

You’re not supposed to stand in your condition but you do out of stubborn pride.

 

_Glittering city, broad walls and high gates_

_Condelon’s falling to rise no more_

_Burned with fire; the people shall labor in vain_

_The fire shall come and leave ruins upon the shore_

 

Early Sunday morning in the Signless Orthodoxy Church of Greater Interspecies Brotherhood and Sisterhood and shabby people still shuffle in. The church is in the heart of the city, several miles from home but it’s your favorite church because of the stained glass windows and the paintings. Such devotion to faith via artwork should be rewarded with loyalty, you think. Your favorite is the oil painting of Jegus Signless upon the Culling Obelisk, dangling by the burning cuffs. Your second favorite: the stained glass window of Jegus Signless bargaining his immortality with the King of Heaven, to spare the foolish mortals from the Starfall.

 

_Run to your soldier and raise your alarms_

_While his divine blood was upon your floor_

_Did Jegus praise aloud, deliver his message_

_Condelon’s falling to rise no more_

 

The reverend prefers the long version of the hymn, going into details of the old Empress’s tyranny and hideous body, corrupted from the inside out by her sins. Orthodoxian artists see your ancestor as a bloated monstrosity fed by bloodlust. You’re not gullible; you know this was done to make the Signless’s rebellion look more selfless and holy.

 

_The earth shall split and the animals die_

_Then shall sing the knights seven_

_You hear the glorious trumpets in the air_

_But you shall never see the Kingdom of Heaven_

_The work of your rot flesh is manifest_

_Your wrath and strife four score_

_Cry blood and let slip your dogs_

_Condelon’s falling to rise no more_

 

You mouth this part. You know the Condesce wasn’t as monstrous as history makes her out to be, but you keep that to yourself. The people walking in don’t look at you. It will take weeks to rebuild the trust they once placed in you. The hymn dies away, the choir scatter, and the reverend Mother Maryam takes the pulpit; a jadeblood with brittle horns.

“My children: here we gather on this blessed morning. I give praise to you who are dressed appropriately despite the heat. Summer is upon us and with it comes great temptations. Gambling. Drinking. Laziness. Infidelity. Today I speak of the temptation of ebbing away the boundaries of morality. I speak of, my children, of the mixing of quadrants or ‘bleeding’.

“Though you may see this sin as a harmless one, you already misconstrue the words of the Tome. For does it not say in Beforans, ‘Let quadrants be held in honor among all, and let the concupiscent couch be undefiled, for the gods will judge the sexually immoral and adulterous’? And yet I hear this constant talk of how Jegus allowed the mixing of quadrants, therefore it is not immoral to engage in sexual congress with your moirail? To feel pity toward one’s kismesis? We turn to Devarim One, Verse Twenty-Two…”

You remain there for twenty whole minutes but then Mother Maryam recants the fate of grubs born out of quadrantlock; doomed to wander around in a fog on the edge of the Light and Rainy Hell. You don’t go to the bathroom because you don’t want questions from an altar kit or a young dolor. You stand in the vestibule, letting the reverend rant.

“Feferi?” You see Ms. Egbert; she’s always floating around the church. She’s taken your place since your sin, which was not hard. Mother Maryam was never fond of you; the sin was just an excuse to make her hate more apparent. “What’s wrong, dear?”

You wipe your tears. You wish you could say you were crying because you’re hurt by the reverend’s words. You’re crying because that bitch had the bulge to give such a broad, backhanded insult in front of the whole congregation. If you weren’t Orthodoxian… _ooh_ , that bitch. You wipe away the tears, and strain not to growl out your words. “I-I’m fine, Ms. Egbert…”

“You look th’ exact opposite of fine.” She touches your shoulder, “I think you need some fresh air.”

You exit the vestibule into the gardens where the church grows its own vegetables to sell at the farmer’s market every Saturday morning. You sit on a bench, gripping your knee. “I usually don’t blubber in church but… I guess I’m just an ocean of emotions right now.”

“It’s normal to feel a little anxious about certain, sensitive topics. I had my Johnny all alone too.”

“I thought you were married, Ms. Egbert?” She had to have been; the older churchgoers would have never accepted her otherwise.

“Oh yes. Born, baptized, and married in the church, but Johnny was dead by the time I came to New Jack City. Being a widow isn’t paradise either. But my dear, why are you here alone?”

You took the church carpool from the trailer park bus stop. With your seizures public transport was too dangerous. “I’m the only Orthodoxian in my family and among my friends.”

“Excuse me for asking this… but why be an Orthodoxian?”

It’s not an unkind question. Few seatrolls are Orthodoxian; most of the Tome (especially the Old Lexicon), heaped the ills of the world on the decadent seadwelling nobility. There were plenty of other religions: Sufferism, Pyxicca, Alternian Traditionalism, The Latter Day Terrorsaints, the Beakbeastian Communion. Time’s rubbed over your original reasons. Was it when you were a kit and the Orthodoxian families glared at you because you had the blood of the Tyrant? Was it when yet another doctor said they couldn’t discern the cause of your seizures and you felt hopeless? Was it because the Orthodoxian Church was what your father loved before his death? Was it because you felt a strange kinship with Vantas Senior that you couldn’t put into words and tales of his alter ego gave you comfort?

You can’t remember which. You settle on, “My father was a preacher. I wanted to be a dolor.” Dolors. so green and pure in their billowing silken dresses, shunning the world so that they may mother the innocent and the sinful. Communal mothers to the Signless and the world. You could never be one now; not with two bastards.

“We always dream of things but the gods have other plans in mind.” Ms. Egbert sighs, “Feferi… perhaps this is not your place? The cathedral is so far for you and it’s dangerous for you to come alone. You should join a stay at home group like I did during the later stages of my pregnancy.”

You’ve already had this conversation with your mother, along with preceding discussions about the state of her soul.

“Why should I give a shit about that?” your mother would say, “Me and those Orthodoxians be like Germaniums and Trussians. You get us in one room? We gonna have a brawl.”

You tried to get your moirail interested in church but that was a dead end too.

“Fef, while I respect your beliefs and everything,” Eridan said, “I ain’t interested in being Orthodoxian. I prefer the stories of our ancestors, y’know? Mythology the way it was supposed to be with all the magic and epic battles.” 

He became an Alternian Traditionalist, which you can’t understand. Who wants to worship callous gods whose only concerns are getting laid and screwing up the universe? The traditional stories are only about lust and petty jealousies. The Orthodoxian King of Heaven was a righteous and kind soul who showed mercy to all; while the Traditionalist God of Air and Darkness was a clumsy prankster who once destroyed five planets while trying to juggle them.

You shake your head. “I’ll manage.” You stand slowly, “You shouldn’t even be speaking to me; Mother Maryam will be angry...” 

“Oh, stow that old crone.” Ms. Egbert huffs, “I’ve know you and your brother since you were kits. I’ll be the judge of who I talk to.”

You give an involuntary twitch when she mentions your brother. The troll your brother was has been erased from existence. He’s a tall brute now, wild and scarred.

“It took me half a day to realize who it was.” she sighs, “He’s grown so big… so hard looking. To think he used to be the same little boy who’d hide under my porch and pop out when I had cookies… I don’t think he recognized me.”

“He came by to see me a few days ago before Dualscar’s funeral. He seemed… troubled, but he wouldn’t tell me what. He didn’t seem to be angry at me for… what happened.”

“You were young when the incident happened. There was nothing you could do.”

“I always asked Eridan about that day but he says he doesn’t remember. I know Gamzee; he wouldn’t have done that. It must have been a misunderstanding but… no one listened to me.”

“If your moirail has done something wrong, shouldn’t he have told you by now?”

That is the nagging question. Eridan comforted you after they took Gamzee away. He helped you with your seizures, but now Gamzee had returned and Eridan has Sollux to watch over out for him while you couldn’t.

“Have you tried talking to Gamzee?”

“No. Not even my mother has gone near him. We figured he was bitter about what had happened or forgotten about us or hated us.”

Ms. Egbert touches your shoulder. “If he came by to help you, he still cares.”

You return to the cathedral, Mother Maryam now discussing how the church garden needed landscaping done and if there was anyone available for heavy lifting. After the sermon, you sing “O Pious Palm, Now Smoldering”. You can’t stand though.

 

* * *

 

The carpool drops you off at the edge of the trailer park. You have to walk to Two Boot Drive but you don’t mind. You like seeing the summertime changes in the park; the kudzu thickens, weeds and kits shoot up in the heat and have summertime adventures. You miss the mud and squirt-gun fights in the drainage ditches.

You pass Kurloz’s trailer and think of your brother. You should talk to your brother, but you can’t think of what to say. You should head home first. You’ve been on your feet all day. You turn on Park Avenue, feeling a little dizzy. The world swerves and then things go black.

When you wake up, you’re lying on a couch, too exhausted to sit up. The trailer smells of weed and cigarettes. Gamzee sits next to you, mud on his shirt and jeans.

“Finally awake or your eyes just open?” he asks. You mumble; your tongue’s like wet cotton in your mouth. Gamzee sighs. He leaves the couch and comes back with cold salty water. You chug it down and afterwards you can breathe and move a bit easier.

You should have expected this. You hadn’t drunk enough water or had anything to eat (you’re too paranoid to eat around Mother Maryam).You push wet hair out of your face but leave a muddy smear on your face. Your dress and hair are muddied as well. “How long was I out?”

“About ten minutes. You were walking around talking to yourself. I came out of Tav’s trailer to see what the muttering was about. You started yammering at me and then you just fell over.”

That explains why you’re both so wet and muddy. “Sorry… usually things aren’t this bad.”

“Uh huh…” Gamzee growls.

“I’m being honest!” You pout, “Things just seem worse but I was fine before…” Before your sin and everything in your life began unraveling.

“Last time I saw you, you were having a fit too. Fef. Listen. You can’t keep running around by yourself. You’re not the _only_ one who this is gonna suck for.” He pokes your abdomen. “What if you passed out in some sketchy area? Motherfuckers would kill you or pack you up and sell you, or sell your eggs.”

You shudder. You saw the Foxbeast News special on the illicit egg market. Seatroll eggs were estimated in the hundreds of thousands. You had to turn the channel before they delved into what would happen to said sold eggs. It was too disturbing. “I am careful. I just go to church and back.”

“Why can’t someone go with you?”

“Ms. Egbert and I are the only devout Orthodoxians in the entire neighborhood, and she’s… got a lot to do for the church that I’m not really… allowed anymore.”

Gamzee squints, “I ain’t an Orthodoxian but that shit ain’t right. Who cares if you had a kid that ain’t quadranted? At least you were up front about it.”

You smile, repeating the old adage your father taught you. “Our beliefs wouldn’t be our beliefs if we weren’t challenged by them. Eventually, they’ll accept me again.”

“Yeah, but are they gonna accept your _kids?_ You know how them folks are, Fef. They gonna say you’re pure and back in the gods’s kingdom and then they go home and tell _their_ kids that yours are a bunch of heathen little shits they ain’t supposed to be talking to.”

You know that’s exactly what’s going to happen but you hold out hope that it won’t be as harsh. But then Gamzee asks the worse question, “Where’s Eridan in all of this?”

You frown. “He’s an Alternian Spiritualist.” That says it all. You pray Eridan doesn’t want the eggs blessed in one of his pagan blood rites.

Gamzee gives a tired groan. “ _Why_ did you think being pale for that shithead would work out?”

“Eridan’s not a shithead.”

“He’s too much for you!” Gamzee sighs, “Fef, I don’t got two brain cells to rub together but even _I_ know you two ain’t a good pale. He’s got all these petty little problems and he just dumps them on you and expects you to solve them, and when the real shit happen he clam up like it ain’t a big deal. And he won’t be there when _you_ need him. Motherfucker doesn’t know how to pull his weight.”

“He’s doing fine.” You lie, because after your sin, you haven’t been close to Eridan. You haven’t even arranged any moirail feelings jams. “When did you become Mr. Pale Expert? You haven’t had a moirail since… well…”

Anger doesn’t flare up on his face but pain. It’s only a half-second though before it’s beaten back with neutral annoyance. “Shit’s important when you’re locked up. _Bonds_ are important when it’s just words and knowing the right people between you and the knife.”

“You mean… getting shanked?”

“When you’re in Amethyst long, shanking ain’t scary. You learn to shrug that shit off. I’m talking the other knife.” His frown intensifies, “ _Surgical_ knife.”

You see the long tract of scars along his arm that you know those are kill-marks. There are other scars; foreigners on his road map body. Marks from having constant injections in one vein and dotting where surgeries. Its dangerous to invade an ex-con’s personal space but old feelings take you over. You touch the dotted scarring on his neck and he jerks away, working into a crouch on the far end of the couch. There’s fear in his eyes.

Your eyes go watery, “Gamzee… what did… they _do_ to you?”

He doesn’t growl or scowl. He scratches the old scars on his neck, and his eyes are to the floor. And he tells you how the scientists at Amethyst were commissioned by different corps and each commission was separated by type: clinical trials, cerebral sensory analysis, defect tracking, and discrimination testing. The tests were divided into subcategories and each came with a description.

“They couldn’t _force_ you do them,” he tells you, “at least not legally, so they made it so you _wanted_ to do them. Med trials were the worse but if you did three you got a private cell with a window. If you did DIS trials, you got all of that plus getting out of CSA for a year.”

CSA (cerebral sensory analysis) was a lottery no one wanted and no one won. They’d put you in a coma, cut your skull open, plug wires straight into your brain, and then monitor you. Four weeks later, they’d gradually wake you up and see how “in-synch” you were with computer when alert.

“No one survived CSA for long.” he adds, “Even with the lottery only one person would be a chosen every six months. Though… some people willingly did CSA.”

“Why?”

“Some wanted to die.” He shrugs, “Others… did CSA for… another person. CSA was the Snowman’s grub. If you needed a big favor from her, you or someone else did CSA.”

There’s a story there but you feel this isn’t the time to ask about it. He tells you how he killed his attackers in prison and had a new, friendly cellmate. Things were fine until she did the med trials and went blind from having Fuchi-Sol sprayed in her eyes and her lungs ruined from inhaling Febreeze. After that, she’d just lay in the cell suffering.

“I couldn’t take it… listening to her just wheezing and wailing… so one night I took a pillow and I smothered her. No one even asked what happened. The guards just came in, shrugged, and took the body to be mulched. Oh yeah”—he sees the look on your face—“anyone who dies on Amethyst is mulched; ground up by the threshers, mixed with the compost, spread on the fields. ‘Never refuse to reuse’ is what the posters always said. They loved rhymes.”

He swallows, “So, after that… I wanted a private cell, so I did the dis testing.”

Discriminatory testing sounds less like scientific pursuit and more like corp funded quackery; scientists trying to turn seatrolls into landtrolls, landtrolls into seatrolls, if inter-blood transfusions were possible, if other hemotypes could develop psionics, how resistant a troll could be to radiation that would normally kill a human being.

“One scientist had a theory. We called her Black Inches ‘cause she was Snowman’s right hand woman. B.I. had a theory that you could turn highbloods into seatrolls cause we were a genetic link. She cut gills into us and dicked around with our lungs to see if she could…’encourage’…us to breathe water. That’s what she called it. ‘Encouraging’. Not ‘mutilating’.

“There were sixty of us at the start. Halfway through, there were forty. It got worse when she’d only let us have salt water as part of the…’encouraging’. Four months in, there were twenty-five of us. We were so dehydrated, we started licking floors. Drinking mop water. Rain water. Anything to stop the thirst. They kept us in a separate building the whole time and I was just lying on the floor, just thinking ‘This is it. This is how I’m gonna die.’ By the end, there were maybe fifteen left. I was the smallest; they were surprised I had survived at all. They gave us survivors plenty of food and… when I got a glass of regular water, I was so fucking happy. It seemed too good to be true. I thought I had died and… heaven was a cold glass of water.”

You hate your vivid imagination because you see teenage Gamzee, lying on a hard cot with lips cracked, too weak to hold the glass. You can’t imagine struggling for water. You can’t say a word, so you move close to him and sit his lap. He looks confused when you nuzzle him.

“We’re…” He mumbles, “…getting sorta close aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” You shut your eyes, “like when I used to climb into your ‘coon and head-butt you awake.”

“That was… years ago.”

“You make it sound like it wouldn’t be fun now.” You head-butt him gently.

He grins and head-butts you back. “Girl, do not start a head-butting competition with me. My horns are _made_ for this shit; you don’t even know.”

“My horns are just as head-butting worthy!”

You get into another head-butting match with Gamzee. Your horns get tangled in each other’s hair and you laugh. You lean against your brother, forehead where the neck meets the shoulder.

“You’re gonna get more mud all your church clothes.” Gamzee says.

“They’re already muddy.” You gently untangle your horns from his hair. “And I’ve already sweated through this dress. Let’s take a bath.”

“A bath…” Gamzee mutters, “Alright…”

But he’s skittish, even when you’re lying in the tub. There’s nothing to be shy about. Your mother used to bathe you together when you were kits. You wash his hair. You don’t talk. There’s just relaxation, purring, and the slosh of warm water. You drain the tub and wear one of his spare shirts.

 

You’re lie across his lap, watching Wait Til Your Ancestor Gets Home on the Wayback Channel when Tavros comes through the door. He looks at the TV. “Holy shit, this show still comes on?”

“On Wayback, yeah,” you say.

Gamzee frowns at his matesprit. “Get back from seeing your hate ape?” 

Tavros rolls his eyes. “Yes, if you’re going to be an asshole about it.”

Gamzee growls and you look at your brother. “Dad would throw a fit if he heard you calling someone an ‘ape’.”

Gamzee scowls at you. “That shit’s in the past. He wasn’t my real father.”

“For a long time you thought he was. You never met our biological father until later.” You point out.

Tavros tilts his head. “What’s this now?”

“ _Nothing_.” Gamzee grumbles.

You look at Tavros, smiling. “Our father was human.”

“He wasn’t our father. He was just the guy Mom lived with.” Gamzee growls.

Tavros folds his arms, trying not to smirk. Gamzee is still glaring at him as he sits on the couch. “Oh, _really now?_ How… _interesting_. Do tell me about your ‘father’.”

“I don’t even fucking remember him.” Gamzee is grinding his teeth.

You sit up and take his clenched hand. “He had long brown hair he kept braided back, and he always wore a manicula he carved himself. He ran a small church he had inherited from the old priest and even though it was falling apart, he took care of it. He believed in equality for all species.”

“Where was this?” Tavros asks.

“Leder.” You say, “We were so little when we lived with him but mother told us all about it. So many things in Leder were segregated. Even if you were a maid in a rich man’s house, you were expected to use the backdoor and not speak unless spoken to. Father thought that was wrong and did his best to reform things.”

Tavros frowns, “I’m guessing that… he didn’t make it through the riots?”

“No…” You frown. “Not a lot of humans did. Mother misses him a lot.”

You’re upended onto the floor when Gamzee quickly stands. He doesn’t look at as he walks past the kitchen door. You follow and Gamzee is standing at the back door, his hand gripping the door handle.

“I don’t want to hear that shit.” he growls, “He wasn’t even my real Dad.”

“Gamzee…” you say.

“I don’t give a shit about the past. I don’t even remember the bastard’s name.”

“Gamzee. Please look at me.”

He slowly turns around. His eyes are watery and he rubs at them. “I don’t like fucking apes. I don’t like anything about them. And that shit with… Mom and that ape was just…”

You walk over to him and gently touch his face, stroking his cheek. “Shoosh. It’s okay.”

“Fucking apes. They put me away and I could still… those fuckers could send me there…”

You keep stroking him, “Shoosh. It’s okay. I’m here and no one’s going to take you away. We’re a family again.”

“It could still happen…” he mumbles, “…I could still go back to that place…”

“Shoosh…”

This is pale cheating. Your sins are piling up but Gamzee needs you. Eridan’s worries are petty compared to Gamzee’s sharp-edged massive ones. And who else can he turn to? The person he had pale feelings for he’ll never trust again. He’s too angry and frustrated with everyone else to open up to them. It’s just you and his matesprit and it’s not fair to Tavros to have to flip and bleed quadrants; he’s not a mutantblood. You’d be committing a worse sin ignoring your brother.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, “I’m here for you, Gamzee.” He takes a deep breath, swallows his fear. You smile. “You look like a sad clown. Do you have more face paint here?”

He smiles. “Of course.”

He’s in a much better mood once you get his face put back on. You put the white on, layering it carefully and even Tavros joins in, adding black circles around his matesprit’s eyes. He uses his thumbs to apply the black around Gamzee’s mouth. Gamzee paints your faces next, first yours and then Tavros. You get black and white swirls around your face. Tavros is something he takes time with, turning the area around his eyes into butterfly wings. Then there’s a mutual lowering of the eyelids, growls, and a blood color hue rises to the grey skin.

You slip off the bed with sailfish speed and escape into the living room before Tavros can tackle your brother. You watch Deadliest Rescue followed by Food Court Kings. You have no idea where Rufioh is but you eat a lot of his food and drink some of the Faygo. When the bedroom noises subside, Tavros comes out of the room (shirtless) and zipping up his shorts. He sits next to you. “You took off quick.”

You frown, “I don’t want to see my brother nail his matesprit… or vice versa.”

Tavros smirks. “Not this time; or is it a sin to talk about sex with someone’s relative?”

“It’s not a sin but it’s in poor taste.”

“Why? It’s just sex.”

“Sex is something that happens in private between quadranted people and shouldn’t be tossed about willy-nilly.” you say, “That cheapens how special it is.”

“Why should we cherish what animals do without giving a shit?”

“You sound like Porrim.”

“She hangs around here, or rather, around my Mom.”

“Is that where Rufioh is?”

“Yeah… I think she wants to move in.” He sounds the exact opposite of happy admitting that, “She’s getting all cuddly with Mom and now she’s trying to give me… advice.”

“Advice on what?”

“Porrim only knows three things: sex, health, and health related to sex.” Tavros groans, “I’m scared of my next wriggling day. Something tells me she’s going to buy me something awkward; like a double-headed dildo or flavored lube.”

You’re not fond of Porrim either, even though she is a relative; technically older half-sister. “So you don’t like her?”

“It’s not that I don’t _like_ her. It’s just awkward. I never liked talking sex with anyone and everyone. So when my mother’s girlfriend suggests I should try waste chute sex or a different pose if I’m...” He pauses, “Never mind. Point is that it’s awkward. What are you doing here?”

“Why shouldn’t I be here? You’re with my brother who I haven’t seen in years.”

“Yeah, but should you even be seen with him? Won’t your church pals freak out about you hanging with an ex-felon who’s into all that pagan shit?”

You frown. You should have known Gamzee would be a part of the old religions; they flourished in Amethyst. “My brother is my brother. His religious beliefs make no difference to me. And you still talk to Vriska despite her being a bitch.”

“Vriska’s not a bitch.” Tavros says.

“Is.” You’re a bit prejudiced against her and Karkat though, for mocking your religious beliefs.

“ _Isn’t_.” Tavros growls, showing you his teeth.

“I thought you didn’t like her?” You huff, “What’s going on with you two anyways?”

Tavros leans back on the couch, arms folded. “I’m the only one allowed to call Vriska a bitch and I say she isn’t. We’re… not friends. We’re cousins. We’re a family. We’re _all_ family.” And at ‘family’ he makes a hand waving gesture as to include you as well, “One big, incestuous family; the rednecks that live across the bridge.” He huffs, “And aren’t you cheating by comforting him?”

“Like you have a right to judge quadrants after Hanael.”

Tavros frowns and pulls out a pack of Banished Quasiroyals. “You’re right,” he admits, “but you can’t ignore that _I’m_ right too. I’m all for Gamzee having a moirail, but what about fish boy? I don’t want to give my clown a pale at the expense of someone else. I might be an asshole but I’m not willing to do _that._ ”

There’s something earnest and sad in his eyes when he says that. You sigh, “You’re not an asshole, Tavros. I’m sure that…” You’re not going to lie and say you like him but you say, “…you make Gamzee happy, and after all he’s been through, that’s a _huge_ accomplishment. You two should just settle in and… start a family.”

Tavros frowns. “Not happening.”

“You don’t like grubs?”

“It’s not that. It’s just. Ugh.” Tavros lights his cigarette, “I don’t want to get into it.”

You sit next to him, watching Colossal Encounters: Shongolia. You think of those awful experiments in Amethyst and consider that maybe Gamzee actually can’t perform those tasks. You’ve heard horror stories; a lot of ex-felons go to church, embrace Orthodoxy. The dolor who swept the aisles said he’d been sterilized by the tests. Could Gamzee be sterile? What about Tavros? He hadn’t had any ‘accidents’ with Hanael. It was suspicious. Birth control backfired all the time; cysts, internal hemorrhaging, heat cycle overdrive… the list went on.

You don’t stay long after this conversation. Gamzee insists on walking you home. You get dropped off at your door; Gamzee doesn’t stay to talk. You see the hurt in your mother’s eyes but don’t say anything. You wash your dress and pin it on the clothes line. You lay in the living room in a kiddie pool of warm saltwater surrounded by towels. You must have nodded off because you wake up and its pitch black outside. There’s a note on the fridge from your mother saying she had business to take care of and there’s dinner in the fridge. You lay back in the living room kiddie pool, eating your dinner and typing on your husktop.

 

* * *

 

\--cuttlefishCuller[CC] began trolling caligulasAquarium[CA]!--

CC: )(ey, -Eridan. Are you awake?

CA: holy shit fef you havve like the wweirdest timin ever

CC: W)(at’s wrong?

CA: uh sort of busy here um

CA: howw can i put this delicately

CA: i stopped damara from committin suicide

CC: W)(at!? Is s)(e okay?!

CA: wwell i got a wweird message from her that wwas supposed to go to rufioh but i got it and howw she wwas saying goodbye and some other shit and

CA: fuck fef she’s a mess i don’t know how shes survvivved this long wwithout a moirail she needs one bad

CC: O)(.

CC: So.

CC: You feel pale for )(er?

CA: im more wworried about her wwell being than anything right noww

CC: W)(y do you even talk to Damara?

CA: shit, fef, do I havve to get into that

CA: this is sort of a big deal suicide and all

CC: I’m sorry. )(ow is she doing?

CA: i think shes doing better wwe talked about things for a while

CA: shes just sort of sittin noww being quiet

CC: At least s)(e’s not )(urt. Uh. –Eridan, can I ask you somefin?

CA: wwhat is it

CC: Are we still moirails? I mean since… the thing… )(appened, t)(ings  )(aven’t been t)(e same. We’ve talked but I don’t t)(ink we’re as close as we used to be. 38(

CA: yeah

CA: do you even trust me anymore after that?

CC: …I’d be lying if I said I did. I know it wasn’t your fault w)(at happened. It was bad timing on both our parts but a small part of me just isn’t comfortable anymore.

CA: its my fault fef

CA: I shouldn’t havve come ovver

 

He was just trying to be a good moirail. You sent him the message during a fit and when Eridan came over, you were unconscious and your other self was in control. You were in heat and your other self was obsessed with “lineage”. You know (from Eridan and mother’s descriptions) that she was a traditionalist troll; an angry aging empress with a small kingdom and big ego.

 

CC: Maybe we s)(ould just )(ave a space for a w)(ile, until t)(ings are less awkward. Life seems to just be pulling us in different directions now.

CA: yeah

CA: I gotta go but you take care of yourself alright fef

CC: You too, -Eridan.

\--caligulasAquarium [CA] stopped trolling cuttlefishCuller[CC]!--

 

There. Its done. You’ve mutually dissolved your moirallegiance. Breaking off pale is harder and far worse than breaking off flush. You don’t feel like crying though. You send another message. 

 

\--cuttlefishCuller[CC] began trolling terminallyCapricious[TC]!—

 

CC: )(ey. 38)

TC: Oh mY GoDs fEf iTs lItErAlLy oNe iN ThE MoRnInG

CC: Like you’re not already up. 38P

TC: YoU’Re lUcKy I aM WhAt iS It

CC: W)(at *are* you doing at one in the morning? 38?

TC: TaV AnD Me aRe sMoKiNg sOmE Of rUfIoH’S PoT AnD ShOoTiNg cAnS At tHe vAcAnT LoT In eAsT EnD WaY

CC: S)(ooting cans? 38/

TC: YeAh hE WaNtS To lEaRn tO ShOoT

CC: Isn’t it illegal for trolls to own guns in New Jack City?

TC: PlEaSe eVeRy mOtHeRfUcKeR In tHe tRaIlErpArK AnD ThE SqUaLoR OwNs a gUn

TC: ItS NoT My gUn aNd uNdEr tHe sTaNd yOuR GrOuNd  lAw aNd cAsTlE LaW YoUrE AlLoWeD To uSe wEaPoNs iF YoUrE AfRaId fOr yOuR LiFe aNd tHaT InClUdEs gUnS It wOnT HeLp Me bUt iTlL HeLp tAv iF He fEeLs hEs iN DaNgEr

TC: AnD TrUsT Me hE HaS EvErY RiGhT To fEeL ThAt

CC: You seem to know a lot about t)(e law in New Jack City for someone who’s failing )(istory. 38/

TC: A D IsN’T FaIlInG

CC: It sure as hell isn’t passing. )(ow do you know all of t)(is?

TC: If yOuRe gOiNg tO LiVe iN AnIlInE EnD YoU HaVe tO KnOw hOw tO AvOiD ThE LaW

TC: HiStOrY Is bOrInG As sHiT WhY ShOuLd I eVeN BoThEr tHeReS No pOiNt iN HaViNg a dIpLoMa

CC: You can get out of t)(is dump if you apply yourself. You’re not stupid, Gamzee. You could pass t)(at class if you really felt like it.38/

TC: WhY ArE YoU BoThErInG Me wItH tHiS? NoT EvEn kUrLoZ BoThErS Me wItH ScHoOl sHiT LiKe eVeRyOnE ElSe dOeS

CC: T)(at’s because Kurloz didn’t do t)(at well in sc)(ool eit)(er, especially around )(is senior year. 38/

TC: …rEaLlY NoW?

TC: TeLl mE MoRe. :o)

CC: I don’t know all t)(e details but I know after Mom left for Leder Dolorosa Maryam got really upset about somet)(ing. S)(e went away for a w)(ile and during t)(at time Kurloz got arrested for possession. And )(e got arrested again later on for somet)(ing else. I don’t t)(ink Kurloz graduated because )(e was on probation and community service.

CC: You know, if you graduated you’d be t)(e first purpleblood to graduate from )(ig)( sc)(ool. You’d be superior to Kurloz.3>8)

TC: HuH I NeVeR ThOuGhT Of iT ThAt wAy

TC: BuT ScHoOl iS A FuCkInG PaIn fEf:o(

CC: I’ll )(elp you out! I )(ave plenty of time. 38)

CC: Plus I bet Rufio)( would let you be around a lot more if you prove t)(at you )(ave potential.

TC: EvEn wItH A DiPlOmA No oNe’s gOiNg tO HiRe a fElOn pUrPlEbLoOd iN NeW JaCk cItY

CC: Gamzee, in a big city, it’s not w)(o you are, its w)(o you know. And you know plenty of plenty of people.38)

TC: I OnLy kNoW CrImInAlS

CC: Noooo, not t)(e people you know from Aniline -End and prison! T)(e people you know now! T)(ere’s me, Mom, t)(ere’s Miss -Egbert, Miss Lalonde, and Tavros! We can )(elp you! 38)

TC: I HaVeN’T TaLkEd tO MiSs eGbErT In yEaRs tHeReS NoThInG To sAy tHaT ShE ShOuLd hElP Me

CC: I’ll go wit)( you to talk wit)( )(er if you want. I’ve been meaning to talk wit)( )(er anyways.38)

TC: YoU’Re hElPiNg mE A LoT WoN’T WhInY DiPsHiT GeT AlL UpSeT AbOuT It?

CC: No… we broke up.

TC: Oh…

CC: No )(uge loss I think. You need me a lot more. 38)

TC: …

TC: I MiSsEd yOu fEf :o) <>

CC: I missed you too, Gamzee. 38) <>


	2. hell is a full cashbox

**== >Feferi: Be Eridan earlier that day **

“Stop being a fucking pain in the ass.”

“Bite me, you lisping tool.” You growl, gathering  more pillows under your arm.

“Eridan, you idiot,” Sollux growls, “you have to take your prenatal vitamins and your meds unless you want me to explain to the doctor why you passed out _again_.”

“I’m fine, Sol.” You leave the bedroom.

“Eridan, come back here and take your fucking vitamins! And where are you going with all my pillows?”

“I’m taking them because you’re a fuckface lisping, moron, and fuckface lisping moron don’t get pillows.”

You don’t know why you’re taking Sollux’s pillows. You’ve commandeered pillows, spare blankets, and canned food to place inside the couch, which you’ve turned around to face toward the wall. With the addition of the blanket and pillows, it feels more secure. You climb inside of it and lay down, feeling warm and snuggly.

Sollux stands nearby. “What are you doing? Other people have to use that couch you know.”

“Well its mine now. You knocked me up, so I at least get one space to be alone.” You pop your head out of the blanket tenting over you. “Well. What are you waiting for?”

“What are you talking about now?”

“I want you to come in here. I made this for the both of us.”

“The both of us, huh?” Sollux walks to the couch edge and leans on it. “And what am I supposed to do inside it?”

“Cuddle.”

“Cuddle?”

“Just shut up and get in.”

“I have work to do and I can’t do it while hiding in your pillow fort.”

You don’t know why but you feel upset when you hear he doesn’t want to lay next in this fort you spent all morning making. You try to growl and hiss but you end up sniffling, “I just want a little intimacy, okay? I can’t go to the store or do anything on my own. My grandfather died and there’s no one else left and I had to sell everything to pay off the debt—”

“Holy shit. Calm the fuck down, Eridan. It’s not that bad.”

“I’m fine, you asshole! Don’t fucking talk down to me like I’m a kit!”

Sollux groans, looking at the ceiling, “Oh my shit. I will fucking cuddle you until the moobeasts come home if you just take a few deep breaths and calm down.”

“I am perfectly fucking calm!” You hiss and duck back under the covers, “Go back to work, you nerd bastard!”

“For fuck’s _sake_ ,” Sollux climbs over the couch and lifts up the blanket. He ducks under and moves close to you, “Sometimes I wonder why I put up with hating your ass when you get so weird and clingy.”

“It’s not my fault; blame the hormones and your kid being a pain in the ass.”

Sollux pokes your waist, ignoring your growling. “You realize it’s only going to get worse right? And then you have to push out an egg.”

That last part you’re not looking forward to. You don’t have to be an expert to know that first time layers have difficulty. “They’re gonna have to cut me open, the doctor said. I can’t lay on my own. I’ll be in the hospital on IV drip for a week.”

“Are you sure you’re going to… give it away?” You frown and Sollux sighs, “I just want to know ahead of time if you change your mind. There’s a spare bedroom since Terezi’s moved out.”

“Meaning what?” You grumble.

“Do I have to spell this out for you? You can’t afford to live on your own. You have my kid. You are currently taking up space in _my_ trailer. Why not just have the kid and you _both_ can stay here?”

You rub your knuckles on your waist. “I don’t think I could raise a kit.”

“Like you’d be doing a worse job than Kankri or Dualscar.” Sollux snorts.

You shut your eyes. “If you insist.” Your iHusk vibrates in your pocket and you pull it out.

“I thought this was supposed to be our private snuggle time?” Sollux says, actually sounding offended.

“Yeah, but I’ve been waiting to talk to Kan.”

“Ooooh. _Kan._ ” Sollux snickers, “You trying to get a little jadeblood?”

“There’s more to our relationship than sex.” Though you can’t wait until the egg is out so you can climb on top of Kanaya and lick those firm heftsacks. Your bulge is starting to wake up just thinking about it.

Sollux smirks. “I can feel your bulge, Eridan…”

You ignore him and look at your iHusk.

 

\--grimAuxilatrix[GA] began trolling caligulasAquarium[CA]!--

 

GA: Are You Currently Available Or Are You Stuffing Your Face Like Your Doctor Recommended

CA: wwhoa wway to sound totally flush there kan im feeling the red lovve

GA: I Can’t Help But Jab You On Occasion Eridan You Make It So Easy

GA: But Honestly I Do Worry About You Considering Your Situation

CA: im fine kanim just sort of laying around here in a pillow fort wwith sol wwhos being a pain

GA: A Fort Now? You’ve Already Gotten To That Stage? It Must Be The Mutantblood In You

CA: wwhat stage wwhat are you talking about

GA: The Nesting Phase Is When The Troll Picks Out The Area They Are Going To Lay Their Egg

CA: but im not laying my egg here i havve to go to a hospital

GA: Yes But Your Instincts Are Making Preparations In Case You Can’t

GA: Before The Mother Grub Trolls Laid Their Eggs In Underground Caves

GA: The Beta Troll Laid The Eggs And Would Remain In The Caverns With The Offspring While The Alpha Troll Brought Food And Protected Them

GA: Typically The Beta Troll Would Make A Nest For Copulation And A Separate Nest For Laying But Only Mutantbloods Seem To Stick To Their Instincts Which I Have Several Theories About

CA: oh my gods you nerd wwhy do you even knoww all of this

GA: Haven’t You Ever Watched History Of Alternian Sex

CA: isn’t that the softcore porn showw that masquerades as being an educational on the history channel

GA: Yes

CA: kan

CA: wwhy wwere you wwatchin that

GA: I Think A Better Question Is Why The Hell Not

CA: wwoww you really are the porrims daughter

GA: We’re Supposed To Be Talking About You Not My Confusing Family Lineage And You Have Nothing To Snark At By The Way Cousin

CA: wwhat are you talkin about

GA: Karkat Didn’t Tell You

CA: tell me wwhat

GA: We’re Related Eridan Cousins Or Half Cousins

CA: howw are we related

GA: It’s Very Simple

GA: Kankri’s Father Is The Ghb Who Is My Grandfather Which Means Our Parents Are Half Siblings Which Means We Are Half Cousins

CA: shit seriously is that wwhat kar wwas tryin to tell me thats a relief

GA: It Is?

CA: yeah

GA: I’m Surprised You’re Not Freaking Out Like Karkat Was

CA: maybe its not that big of a deal because im already a coldblood or maybe this would be a bigger deal if we wwere human

GA: Id Imagine So As Humans Have That Whole Incest Thing To Deal With

CA: humans are so wweird howw do they evven reproduce havving to wworry about wwhos related to wwho and mutations and havving like the dumbest babies ever

GA: Anyways The Reason I’ve Contacted You Is Because I Wanted To Tell You That I’ve Made You Some Outfits For The Future Since You’re Going To Get A Bit More Round

GA: Would You Like To Try Them On

CA: i think you just wwant me to model for you

GA: Oh My You Have Seen Through My Scheme

CA: it appears so

GA: Shall I Come Get You Then

CA: sure

GA: I’ll Be There In A Minute

 

\--grimAuxilatrix[GA] ceased trolling caligulasAquarium[CA]!--

 

Sollux yawns. “What are you doing now?”

“Kan’s coming over to pick me up. She made me something to wear.” you say.

“So you pester me to snuggle you and now you’re going off to snuggle your jadeblood? I’m so hurt.” You climb over the couch slowly and the yellowblood lies back, feigning injury.

“Oh, yeah right you are. I’ve lived here long enough to know your schedule.” You roll your eyes, walking to your shared bedroom, “You’re going to work for a while and then you’re going to play video games with Mituna. Where _is_ Mituna?”

“Visiting Terezi with Latula.”

“Go figure.”

You haven’t talked or thought about Terezi. In about three months she’s going to have your half-siblings, which is strange to think of considering how much younger they’ll be. You haven’t thought about Kankri either, who’s always been uneasy around you. You wonder what that’s about, more than wondering if the GHB is your grandfather or not.

 

* * *

 

“Is it tight in the thorax?”

“The what now?”

“Waist, Eridan.”

“No, its fine.” You hold up the folds of the dress you’re in. It has a lot of slack around the waist and in the front so you can wear it late into your pregnancy. “How much spare fabric do you have?”

“Tons; some I inherited it from my grandmother and take what my father doesn’t what." Kanaya says, wrapping up bolts of patterned fabric. You’ve learned a bit of her patter glossary: Madder, Guilloche, and Tartan. “Some of it I get from work.”

“Where do you work?”

“I’m a seamstress at a store in Finchester Lakes. It’s a bit of a walk since there’s no bus line but at least I can do something I’m skilled in.”

“No bus lines?” It’s hard to picture a place without a bus line. A bus stop is a landmark in case you were lost; a familiar sign of home. “How do people get to work?”

Kanaya smiles. “Finchester Lakes prides itself on being suburban. You borrow or own a car if you want to get anywhere. All the members of the city council and middle managers live in Finchester Lakes.”

“Met anyone interesting?”

“Not really. The people that come there want to spare a dime. If they want top of line, they’ll go somewhere else.” Kanaya shrugs. “What are you doing for employment?”

“I’m a high school dropout so there’s not much available for me. Priesthood won’t pay that much but I could get a job in the area.”

“It’s something to think about while you’re going through your pregnancy.”

You lay on the daybed and watch trashy reality TV, with your arm around Kanaya. NOiSE always runs marathons of Subjug Shore; Food Court Kings is good but makes you hungry. Kanaya cooks you up a home meal and you help by chopping vegetables and defrosting the meat.

“This is the weirdest date I’ve ever been on.”

“So we’re dating?” Kanaya chuckles, “Well, this is a good opportunity to teach you how _not_ to poison yourself. I’m not surprised you didn’t know though; my grandmother wasn’t a cook either.”

“I’ve heard horror stories about her cooking.”

“If you can survive Grandma Maryam’s cooking, you can survive anything.”

You eat oxtail soup and rice. You talk cooking and local fashion trends. You try on new clothes and she teaches you some sewing. You kiss (of course) but you’re still on sex prohibition and, yes, there’s ways around penetration but you’re not in a rush to do either. Cuddling and kissing is fine.

“I never thought we’d be red,” You’re watching Sharknami on SyFy, “Ashen or pale maybe but not _red_.”

“Things just have a way of falling into place,” Kanaya purrs, “and I’m not obsessed with auspisticism like I was when I was a teen. Sticking my nose into things didn’t earn me anything but the scorn of everyone in middle school. I realize that sometimes you have to just let things fall into place naturally.”

“Is that a lesson your grandmother taught you?”

“No. My father.”

“Where is Porrim?”

“Porrim is out with Rufioh, and Tavros if he got dragged along too.”

“Which is why you invited me over?”

“Well, I wanted to see you and if we could actually make this flush thing work.”

So this was a test. “How am I doing so far?”

“I give you an A for effort, a B for conversation and a C in cooking and sewing.” Kanaya says after a half-second of judgment. “I’m sorry to say you’ll never become a pretty little mail-order matesprit.”

“Oh woe is me, Kan. There will be dishonor on my family for the next one hundred years.”

Your iHusk vibrates on the dresser next to you. Your Trollichum is flashing (which you only keep on because Sollux insists on checking up on you).

 

\--apocalypticAdvocate[AA] began trolling caligulasAquarium[CA]!--

 

AA: RUFIOH. I AM GOING NOW. FAR AWAY VERY LONG TIME.

AA: WANT TO SAY. I AM SORRY. SORRY FOR EVERYTHING.

CA: what

CA: damara wwhats wrong

AA: ERIDAN? SHIT.

AA: MESSAGE IS FOR RUFIOH. NOT YOU.

CA: damara wwhats going on

CA: wwhats this shit about going awway

AA: NOT IMPORTANT. FORGET IT.

CA: damara tell me

AA: NO.

CA: damara talk to me

AA: ERIDAN.

AA: I.

AA: 私はJIGAIを実行するつもりです。

AA: あなたは私を止めることはできない。

CA: damara you know i dont understand your beforan alternian

AA: 私は怪物だ。私はもうそれを取ることができません。

AA: 私はゴジラ午前。私は私の足の下で300,000粉砕。

CA: wwhat are you tryin to say are you in trouble

CA: wwhere are you

AA: 私は特別な部屋にいます。私TANTOと。

CA: wwhat wwhats this about a tanto

 

\--apocalypticAdvocate[AA] ceased trolling caligulasAquarium[CA]!--

 

CA: damara

CA: damara come back!

CA: fuck! damara! wwhat does ‘jigai’ mean?

 

 

You don’t panic. You take a deep breath and calmly google the words _jigai_ followed by _tanto_. Immediately, you’re sent to Wikipedia. _Jigai_ is a sub article under _seppuku_ , or ritualistic self-culling. _Jigai_ was practiced exclusively by the matesprits of East Beforan warriors who had already committed _seppuku_. _Tanto_ is a traditional East Beforan short sword with a double edge.

“ _Holy shit_!” You drop the iHusk, sit up too fast in bed, and nearly fall over.

Kanaya looks at you, “Eridan? What’s wrong?” 

You run to the door, not caring about shoes. “She’s going to kill herself!”

Kanaya is following you, shouting at you to be careful not to fall. You stagger through the front door, almost slipping in the mud and dirt across the street. Your soles and toes scuff rocks but you don’t fall and you don’t waver. You’re running on adrenaline. You get to the door but it’s locked.

“Damara! _Damara!”_

There’s no response. You’re panicking now. What if she’s already offed herself? You know she’s home; her car is in the driveway.

You look at Kanaya, “Kanaya, I can’t get the door open!”

The jadeblood’s eyes narrow. “Move.”

You move out of the way. Kanaya takes a deep breath and then kicks the door right under the handle. The door splinters and swings open. You don’t have the time to marvel at Kanaya’s leg strength as you run through the trailer. You call Damara’s name but you don’t hear a response. You do hear crying from the locked room, which is not locked as you find out. The room is crowded with bottles of pickled things, scrolls, and cauldrons for divining. If you were told a witch lived here, you wouldn’t be surprised.

Damara sits in the center of the room on a fur rug. Her hair is a mess, white face paint and red lipstick smeared and running, silk East Beforan dress billowing under her. Her legs have been bound with rope and she’s holding the knife to her throat. Her eyes are shut and she’s trembling, muttering in Beforan Alternian.

You yank the knife from her hand, saying very calmly in Traditional Alternian. “Damara, don’t do this. Whatever is happening we can talk about it.”

 _“Watashi wa kaibutsuda...”_ she repeats.

“Damara, please tell me what’s wrong…”

The rustblood sniffles, shakes her head, “ _Watashi wa…_ I am a monster.”

You sit on the floor with her. You give Kanaya the knife and she leaves to go hide it and hopefully anything else that’s dangerous in the house. “Listen, whatever is going on, you can tell me about it.”

Damara shakes her head, “I can’t…”

“Damara, its Eridan.” You try to smile though it hurts to see her like this. Damara always seemed like the only one in the trailer park who knew what they were doing with their life. You want her to sit up and insult you, not cry. “Just go slow.”

“I am a monster. I am Godzilla. I crush 300,000 under my feet.” Damara murmurs.

“Did someone hurt you?”

Damara shakes her head. “I… I am my mother’s daughter and so I worship my god and I live as I was raised but…” Another gulp, “…there are certain things that even repulse _me._ Contraception is a thing that I do not bother with, so, of course I have had eggs that I could not provide for nor did I want them. Through Mr. Vanilla, I met Black Coats who would buy all types of eggs for a high price.”

“Did the police catch you?”

“No. Worse. Far worse.” She rubs her eyes, “They were wrong. They were the wrong Black Coats the whole time. And that man…!” She clenches her teeth, “That _bastard_. He lied to me this whole time!” You keep pressing her for names, locations, anything to make the story less murky, “I was with a client when I saw a fight between Black Coats. That’s when I realized one group was fake and one was not. I asked Mr. Vanilla and the man never lies. He told me the truth. He told me they sold my eggs to… to people who _eat_ troll eggs and yes, trolls ate grubs on Alternia but not East Beforans! And such thing is so… _repugnant_ to me. Now I think of _my_ eggs, all _my_ eggs being… gods, _I am a monster_. How could I have done this? I should have terminated but I was greedy fool…”

She undoes the rope binding her legs and stands, walking to a cupboard. She pulls out an ordinary cashbox and unlocks it. Its filled with boondollars; pristine, freshly printed.

“This is my hell.” she whispers.

Your eyes are wide, “There has to be ten thousand boon in there, Damara.” You look at her sullen face, “What have you been saving for?”

She shuts the cash box, locks it again. “I know Aradia is pregnant and I do not want my descendants to live in poverty so I save when I can. I want her to leave this place.”

“You’ve had a stressful night.” you say, “Let’s just get you cleaned up and into something a bit more comfortable, okay?”

You persuade her to leave the room and wash her face. She takes off the cumbersome dress carefully, pins her hair back into a bun. You stay close to her, encouraging her to eat but she refuses. She sits in her bedroom, staring at the wall.

You stand outside her door. “I’ll call Aradia. She needs someone to stay with her.” You whisper to Kanaya.

“Aradia’s not going to want to stay with her for long.” Kanaya says, “They can’t stand each other.”

“Does she have any friends?” Kanaya shakes her head. “Shit. Why not?”

“Damara’s never been friendly and she hides her feelings behind a self-imposed language barrier. Even Rufioh doesn’t want anything to do with her anymore. You’re the only one who’s gotten close to her.”

“I guess I’ll try to stay with her until Aradia comes back.”

“Eridan, you have to go back home and rest eventually. Listen,” Kanaya frowns, “I… I will stay with Damara when I can.”

“Kanaya, I can’t ask that of you. You need a break too.”

“Aradia is my friend too. I’d feel bad just leaving her mother in this condition.”

You sigh but Kanaya’s too stubborn to be persuaded. You go inside the room and sit on the daybed, next to the recuperacoon Damara is resting in.

“Eggs are bought and sold all over Canzia.” you say, “No one knows what the real Black Coats do with the eggs, but if the fake ones are part of the egg trade, there have to be others like you in the same situation.”

“Yes.” she says, “There is someone I know… someone I suspect of being as monstrous as I am.”

“Who?” She doesn’t answer. “Damara, they must feel how you do.”

“They would bite their tongue off if they remembered.”

The grub in your stomach squirms. You try to ignore it but then there’s a sharp pain in your back and you have to stand up to straighten it. “I didn’t even know you were pregnant…”

“I was. Not anymore. Mother taught me how to hide my pregnancy.”

“Why not go to the police about this? They’re committing infanticide.”

“And so am I!” Damara growls, “They’ll put me in jail and make me offer myself as a witness for a plea bargain. Mr. Vanilla is a criminal, a very _old_ criminal. His network is vast and he’s never been caught. Even if I were to report to the police and put myself on the stand, his associates would have my throat slit and make it look like an accident.” She rolls over in the recuperacoon, sopor slime sloshing, “If you lie down with barkbeasts, you get up with fleas.”

There’s nothing you can say. You had thought about selling your eggs to Mr. Vanilla too; it’s the reason you haven’t completely broken off contact with him. It’s more like you just stopped talking to him and Nektan because you don’t know what to say. _Sorry. I’m not being a whore anymore since my grandpa’s dead and he was the whole reason I was putting myself through this shit in the first place. If it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t have anything to do with you._ You can’t deny that Mr. Vanilla and Nektan were polite or at least sweeter than most of your clientele, but that doesn’t whiten their images for you.

The grub inside you is bouncing around, more rambunctious than ever. It’s definitely Sollux’s kid. You have to bolt to the bathroom but luckily, you don’t throw up. You just heave a lot and eventually you get control of yourself again. Kanaya helps you stand and you eat some ginger candy to settle your stomach. You lay down on the living room couch, letting her watch Damara while you gather your thoughts.

It’s during this time you get a message from Feferi. You end up dissolving your moirallegiance. If this were you a year into the past, you would be lying on the floor sobbing. Now you just feel hollow. You’re more worried about your grub. You don’t want it to be eaten. You just want it to have a better life than you can give it. But there’s no way of knowing if that will happen or not. You’re still taking a gamble giving it away.

You message Sollux.

 

\--caligulasAquarium [CA] began trolling twinArmageddons[TA]--

 

CA: hey can i ask you a question

TA: ed what ii2 iit? iit2 liike two iin the morniing almo2t.

CA: its an important question about your uh our grub

TA: what ii2 iit?

CA: i wwas wwondering

CA: lets say hypothetically I wwanted to keep it

CA: how wwould wwe even support a kid you wwork but I don’t havve a job or a diploma

TA: you could alway2 get a ged, eriidan. all the communiity college2 offer ged program2. you could get a job out iin ea2t new jack 2iince that'2 where the 2hriine2 are or get a job doing onliine work liike ii do.

CA: i don’t havve any employable skills

TA: 2ure you do. takiing care of old people.

CA: oh ha ha sol you realized my grandpa died not too long ago

TA: ii’m beiing 2eriiou2. there’2 a demand for nur2e'2 aiide2, cna2, and elder care.  not a lot of people want two do iit for troll2 becau2e mo2t of them aren’t happy about not beiing culled.

TA: that and a lot of older generatiion troll2 are not well liiked.

CA: wwhy not theyre nice once you get to knoww them

TA: no. no, they’re not. ju2t a2k kankrii, meenah, cronu2, kurloz, porriim, or liiterally anyone’2 parent and they can tell you even the niice2t o.g. troll wa2 2tiill a diick.

CA: you just nevver bothered to see things from their perspective

TA: eriidan, the alterniian way of beiing ‘niice’ ii2 two 2liit 2omeone’2 throat iin2tead of 2tabbiing them iin the 2tomach you'd diie quiicker. o.g. troll2 are a22hole2 two our parent'2 generatiion and younger. iit2 part of the generatiion gap.

CA: can wwe not talk about slit throats please

TA: why?

CA: i just stopped damara from doing that

TA: oh.

CA: yeah.

CA: 2orry. how’2 2he doiing?

CA: a bit better i think but shes still sort of zonked out

CA: she keeps mumbling in beforan alternian but I cant understand her

CA: do you know anyone who speaks it? maybe she’d feel more comfortable talking to them

TA: ii know beforan alterniian ii2 2iimiilar two old earth japane2e. iif you giive me your iihu2k, ii could 2ee iif ii can add a tran2lator. Iit miight come out engrii2hy becau2e japane2e ii2n’t an *exact* match for ea2t beforan but iit2 better than nothiing. hopefully that 2hiitty iihu2k of your2 ha2 enough memory for the program.

CA: my shitty ihusk is doing a fine job right noww asshole. 

TA: ii 2tiill thiink you 2hould get a diifferent one. anyway2, why don’t you talk two porriim about the job? 2he worked iin a nur2iing home.

CA: alright ill do that

CA: by the wway fef and i broke up

CA: just so you don’t havve to hear it from anyone else

TA: what? why? ii2 2he okay?

CA: yeah shes fine it wwas a mutual dissolvve

CA: theres just other people that need us more than wwe need each other

CA: i think im pretty okay right noww and so is feferi wwere still gonna be close friends just not moirails

TA: holy 2hiit, eriidan. are you 2eriiou2ly… beiing mature about 2omethiing and not beiing a whiiniing?

TA: ii'm goiing two recommend kanaya for 2aiinthood becau2e 2he ju2t performed a real miiracle.

CA: wwe havent been goin out that long and we havvent talked quadranst were just hanging out and

CA: doin things

TA: 2loppy make out2?

CA: shut up

TA: try not two knock anyone el2e up plea2e.

TA: and you’re riight about moiirallegiiance ju2t naturally dii22olviing. ii thought for a whiile that aradiia wa2 my moiiraiil but miituna need2 me more now that terezii doe2n’t liive here anymore.

CA: im so fucking tired sol

CA: today was a long fuckin day i wwanna just pass out

TA: eriidan. what about the egg?

CA: oh yeah

CA: that

TA: do you want to keep iit?

CA: i dont wwanna sell it or just givve it away noww so i guess

CA: maybe wwe can try

CA: if you wwant to that is

CA: wwe can keep it if you dont mind

TA: eriidan, come on. iif 2omeone liike the ghb can raii2e at lea2t half-decent troll2 then ii thiink we’re goiing two do ju2t fiine.

CA: alright

CA: hate you <3<

TA: hate you two.<3<

 

\--caligulasAquarium [CA] ceased trolling twinArmageddons[CA]

 

You stand up slowly and go to Damara. Kanaya has nodded off on the daybed. The rustblood is sitting up in her recuperacoon. She looks at you, her eyes wide and still shining with tears.

“If you’ve been giving away your eggs for so long why did you now want to kill yourself?” you ask in Old Alternian.

“I was overwhelmed with how monstrous I had become,” she replies, “and I was no different from the monstrous things my mother had done. And then, in that moment, I realized that if I did _jibari,_ no one would miss me.”

“I would miss you.” You leave over the recuperacoon, and touch her warm face.  “I would miss you calling me an idiot for being so naïve and telling me about the gods and I would miss… feeling pale for you.”

She doesn’t talk. She only smiles and rest her head on your shoulder.

 


End file.
